


Intoxication

by Fluffysminion



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Port Cais
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27593678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffysminion/pseuds/Fluffysminion
Summary: Chaos? On my lawless wreck of a space station? It's more likely than you think.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

It was in moments like this that Jaspar felt most himself. Slipping through alleyways and sidestreets, clambering over fences and building debris, walls comfortingly close either side of him and the air full of the sounds and scents of countless people busy living their lives. His target was traveling on a walkway a few storeys up where it was considerably more crowded, but he didn’t need more than an occasional glimpse to keep on their tail. There was no rush, he knew the area, knew the few places they were likely to be going, and how to get there without using any well-travelled routes. He’d been doing this all his life, as a child on the streets, as an enforcer, and now as a monster. Hunting people had always been what he was best at.

It was perhaps a far less glamourous and exciting form of hunting than the sort Elizabeth had been so fond of telling stories of, with knights and banners and fanfares, but he'd never been a big fan of excitement. Patience was more his style, and with his prey headed into one of the many dockside brothels he suspected he was going to need plenty of that. He kicked some tins and decaying boxes aside to make a clear-ish area of floor, pulled his coat tighter around himself and settled down to wait. (It almost fit him again now, though it was a very different kind of fit from how he’d worn it originally)

If he had wanted to just kill the man it would have been more straightforward to grab him while he slept, but Jaspar wanted to be certain he was guilty before getting to the messy business of killing. The cultists from the chaos vessel had been very clear that they were on the station to buy sacrifices for their rituals, and if it was them his target was meeting then it was people he was selling.

The sight of the huddle of robed figures should have been a good thing, but the confirmation that his suspicions were correct only left Jaspar disappointed. He hated them, the demon-worshipers bringing ruin and corruption to _his_ station. He was on his feet, legs tensed to spring, teeth grinding in frustration. It was them he really wanted to kill, but they were witches and mutants and fighting them would cause more harm than good.

He eased back, swallowed the mouthful of saliva, and tried not to voice his frustration. Calm. They had gone inside, he only needed to wait and his target, his real target, would come out and he’d have something to strike at. But his patience was gone, his heart was beating, he wanted to _move_.

The wait was a long one, made longer by the unshakable feeling of urgency. But when the moment arrived it was not the sight of his prey that broke his restless ambush: it was a scream.

He was running before he had a chance to think, heedless of the people still around who’d see him. The pain in that voice had cut through his eagerness and left him cold. He’d made a terrible mistake.

The victim cried out again, higher up than the building he’d been watching. Maybe it was unrelated. Maybe it wasn’t his fault. There were shouts of shock and fear from the street as he flung himself up, clinging with fingers and toes to anything he could get a grip on as the flimsier parts of the structure shook from the impact. The climb was an undignified scramble, ledges and hasty patches gave way beneath his weight and he frequently lost his footing but the general trend was upwards. It would have been faster had he approached it carefully but the cries from the street were starting to drown out the sound and he was running out of time.

A gunshot. Deafened and disoriented he almost fell; his scrambling became more urgent. More shots below. No time to be polite, he pushed open doors and windows as he climbed. Blood; he’d found them. He tore the door from its hinges in his panic to get inside, but he’d made it to cover.

Jaspar lay flat on the floor as he recovered his breath. Things had gone very, very wrong. He was looking up at the man he’d come here to kill, suspended from the ceiling by large hooks through his shoulders. Flayed skin radiated out from his back, nailed to the roof above his head. But there was only the occasional drop of blood falling from the six lines carved into his back and his eyes were open and unfocused. Jaspar had arrived too late. He was dead and the cultists were gone.

“You didn’t deserve this. I’m sorry I didn’t kill you before, it would have been kinder.” He sighed. “Or better yet, I should have killed _them_.” He was angry with himself for not listening to his instincts. He was going to get blamed for this now, having been here, and the cult were going to get away with the results of their ritual precisely because he’d got involved.

Or maybe not. The sickeningly sweet smell he’d taken as an after effect of the warp could just be mundanely awful perfume, the blood dripping was taking the same amount of time to hit the floor each time and there wasn’t enough of it on the floor to account for how little was left in the body. No symbols or circles either, it was so obvious he’d nearly overlooked it. Their ritual wasn’t finished.

“Looks like I might be able to correct that last mistake, what do you reckon?” He looked into the corpse’s vacant eyes for a moment before closing the eyelids and lifting the body off the hooks. The strips of skin tore as he pulled the body free, swinging around his head as he placed the body carefully on the ground.

The flayed skin he ate as he checked the windows for anyone who looked like they might shoot at him. There was quite a crowd trying to catch sight of the monster, but none were obviously waving guns. He looked regretfully back at the body he was leaving behind to risk being blown up interfering with an active ritual. He hated leaving food uneaten, but he hated the idea of those responsible getting away even more.

He was not looking forward to trying to explain this decision to Nikota and Karger.


	2. Carnage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what the cult was trying to achieve, but it probably wasn't that.

The ritual site was not difficult to find. There was very little other activity around the docked chaos vessel, the locals having mostly made the sensible decision to be elsewhere, and Jaspar could smell the blood from the moment he emerged from the pipes.

While the blood scent told him he was in the right area, it was the sound of discordant chanting that he homed in on. They had chosen a site without easy access from the outside, perhaps out of fear of him – somewhat flattering if that was the case. If they had been more careful not to piss him off it might even have been an effective deterrent, as he was forced to walk on all fours and squeeze through narrow corridors to reach them.

Now the veil was torn it became possible again to remember the colours of emotions he’d tried to forget, they flitted teasingly around the edges of his perception. But he was in no mood to chase down warp ghosts. He was ravenous, frustrated and pissed off, and the overwhelming smell of blood was driving him mad. When he broke through into the room the cultists were hiding in he was practically feral, every bit the monster he was rumoured to be.

The chanting wavered as Jaspar lashed out, the air was thick with smoke and waving curtains of silk but even blind and deafened with his nostrils burning he could tell when he’d hit flesh. Grabbing and pulling tore robes but brought him no victim, he snapped and thrashed but his jaws closed on smoke and ash and he wasn’t able to single out a target.

One snapped and ran and abruptly the chant broke, each part continuing out of sync for a moment before further unravelling into screaming and shouting. Something brushed Jaspar’s arm and he bit it on reflex, and finally he had something _living_ between his teeth.

But his prey was torn away from him as the tremendous energies gathered were released unharnessed. Raw warp-lightning crackled in the air, the lungs, the mind. The silks, the cultists and Jaspar were all slammed against the ground, burning from the inside as the veil snapped shut around them.

Jaspar jumped to his hands and feet, the mists had cleared and the silks had fallen and he was surrounded by the screams of the dead and dying. A young woman, robes shredded to reveal the fluttering fronds that had replaced her hair, started sitting up but froze for a moment as she made eye contact. Jaspar grinned and her fronds flapped in alarm as he pounced, pushing her to the floor so he could bite the back of her neck.

He wasn’t sure at what point killing turned into eating, but he was certain that she was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Jaws around her neck he gulped at the gushing blood until the flow slowed, his pain entirely forgotten. Soaked in blood and tangled in ritual trappings he threw his head back and laughed.

In his enthusiasm he took none of his usual precautions to prevent things getting messy, and he stripped the carcass to the bone a lot faster than he anticipated. He was grateful there hadn’t been anyone living around to see him, he was embarrassed by his behaviour but not, perhaps, as much as he expected to be. In fact, he felt great; apart from the hunger, and the regret that there wasn’t any meat left on her bones.

He knew he didn’t need any more food, but he still felt hungry and the smell of blood and death and viscera was incredibly appetising to him. As he dug through the debris searching for the other cultists he reassured himself that they were already dead, he was just making sure their bodies didn’t go to waste.

He took his time with the second one, delighted to find it was just as good as the first. It only struck him afterwards that he wasn’t certain he’d checked if they were dead first, not that it felt important. What he was certain of was that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed. He lounged in the carnage, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of power that came from looking at the damage he’d done.

It wasn’t exactly something to be proud of, he reflected. But it certainly felt good. He’d fought six people and the warp and won. Victory had won him a great feast. He wasn’t sure how many of them he’d eaten at that point, and he didn’t really care. He plucked the eyes out of the nearest body and was suddenly struck by the fear that the acolytes might come through the door and see him.

“Fuck you Pear! These ones are mine!” He shouted at the empty doorway and put the eyes in his mouth, chewing with his mouth open as he glared at the absence of Pear. The taste was fine, but it didn’t feel as good as he’d though it would. He missed all of his old team, even Prickly Pear. Struck by his profound loneliness he considered trying to send a message to Genevieve, but that wasn’t the same as being around them, which was what he really wanted.

Home was far away but Sev, Sev lived nearby! There was only one body left anyway, he could easily take that with him. Having made up his mind he stood up, or tried to, as he hit his head on the ceiling and fell over. It took a couple more attempts before he worked out he could stand on all fours, though he was still very unstable.

Humming tunelessly to himself he set off, dragging the remains of the body and most of the contents of the room behind him.


	3. Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A large problem finds a friend.

“SSSSSSEEE-EEEEEEVV! SEV! Sev-Sev-Sev. Sev.” Jaspar rolled the word around his mouth as he stumbled through the warehouse, entertained by how quickly it became just a noise. The world was swaying in a way that would have been alarming if he hadn’t felt so good, and when he turned around to see if his shouting had worked he instead collapsed in a cascade of crates and boxes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here J?” Severin hissed as he descended the stairs to the storage area, wearing a dressing gown and a scowl.

“SEV!” Delighted Jaspar jumped to his feet and charged his friend, knocking boxes everywhere, scooped him up and hugged him so tight it forced the air out of his lungs.

Severin kicked and squirmed trying to escape, but Jaspar barely felt the blows and kept hold of him, grinning like an idiot. “J please put me down, I can’t breathe.”

Jaspar stopped squeezing and looked down puzzled. “Who’ssh J?”

“That’s you, you idiot. Are you drunk?” Severin made good use of the breathing room, slipping his arms out to give himself more space.

“No’t ishn’t. My name’sh Jashpar Lawrence Canto. I should know ssshee, because it’sh my name.”

“Fine, _Jaspar_ will you _please_ put me down.” Severin’s attempt to look stern was wasted as Jaspar was already looking elsewhere.

“’k” Jaspar dropped him unceremoniously and immediately got distracted rummaging around in the fallen boxes.

“Thanks. Now what are you doing here? You do realise it’s four in the bloody morning right? You can’t just show up like this.” Severin felt stupid crossing his arms and telling off a mutant that clearly wasn’t listening. After some rummaging Jaspar stood up suddenly, triumphant. “Wait, is that an arm? Where did you get that?”

Jaspar’s grin was about as lopsided as he was. “I don’t remember.” He waved it at Severin. “Hello” He thought it was hilarious and laughed until he was suddenly struck by another thought. “Wait I have a body for you somewhere, you have to try it Sev it’s so good.”

Severin was unimpressed with the arm and the joke. “Do you think that’s maybe where the arm was from?” He spoke slowly and carefully, but didn’t expect the mutant to pick up on his sarcasm.

“Oh no, I remember I think I ate the ressht on the way here.” He sat down abruptly and dropped his gaze to the floor. “I’m really sorry Sev.” For the first time since he’d turned up his voice was quiet, he seemed genuinely upset.

“Um, that’s alright.” Severin awkwardly patted Jaspar on the shoulder.

“You are quite small, so I guess maybe just an arm is ok. Here, you really should try it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted, better than the red bar, better than the angel-“

“Please stop, I don’t want to know. And I don’t want that arm.”

“But I brought it here for you, I want to share it because it’s very good and you’re my friend.” Jaspar pushed it towards his friend, who backed away to avoid having the gore-y present pressed into his arms.

“That’s sweet of you, but I want you to have it.” He pushed Jaspar’s hand back, trying not to touch the dead arm.

Jaspar’s eyes went wide. “Really? You’re the best Sev, thank you so much.”

“Right J, I need you to listen to me as this is important.” He grabbed Jaspar’s wrist with one hand and held his face with the other in an attempt to keep his attention. “Can you tell me what you’ve taken?”

“Umm… Oh! I forgot, I took these from the cultists for you. I don’t know what they are, but they look pretty.” He tugged on something underneath more of the shattered wares pulling free a bundle of torn and bloodstained silks, Severin winced as more stacks crashed down around them. “And don’t worry about the cultists.” Jaspar leaned in uncomfortably close, it was hard not to gag from the stench of death on his breath. He ‘whispered’ conspiratorially. “I ate them”

Severin pushed his friend’s face back to a distance where it was slightly easier to breathe, but had to grab his shoulder to stop him leaving to go eat the arm. “Drugs J, I’m asking about drugs. Drink? Have you been drinking?”

Jaspar shook his head so vigorously that it nearly knocked them both over. “I can’t drink issh not fair I mish it.” He flopped backwards smiling. “If I could I’d want to drink with you. You shhem like t’short of pershon who’d be good t’drink with.”

“… Right.” Deciding at that point it was safe to assume both that Jaspar was drunk and that he wasn’t going to say anything useful Sev left to get a bucket of water. Jaspar didn’t seem to have noticed his absence, when he returned the mutant was very preoccupied crushing the last bits of bone from the arm. The sound was instinctively terrifying but the way he tipped over sideways immediately afterwards was anything but.

“I think you should drink this mate.”

Jaspar managed to not spill all of it over himself while examining it. “But I’m not thirshty?” He thought for a moment. “I’m hungry though. Can I eat you?”

“No you cannot.” Severin spoke very firmly and hoped that none of his fear came through.

“oh, ok.” Forgetting about that almost immediately Jaspar drained the bucket all at once then flipped it over and put it on his head. Sev burst out laughing largely out of relief, and Jaspar laughed too, both doubling over in hysterics.

Jaspar ended up on his back on the floor again, and as he started to calm down he reached towards his friend. “You’re my best friend Sev. The best. ‘Cept for my family of course. The best that I’m not - is there a word for related but when you’re not related? – the best that’s not whatever that is.” He doesn’t give Severin a chance to respond, pulling him into another hug. “You should meet my daughter Sev, she’s brave and strong and beautiful, her name’s Nikota and she’s perfect and –“

“Stop, stop there J.” Severin had to elbow him in the ribs to get him to stop talking. “I know you think you want to tell me this J, but you don’t. We both agreed that we’re safer not knowing this sort of thing about each other. You want her to be safe right?”

“I’ll keep her safe from everything.” He sobs, he has started to cry. “Safe from… safe from criminals and the inquisition and me.” He curled up, weeping into Severin’s hair. “I never wanted to make things difficult for her!” He wailed. “I tried I tried I tried…”

“Shh, it’s ok, easy now.” Sev gets an arm free and hugs him back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. But it’s ok now, alright?”

Jaspar nods and lets go, and Severin gets himself free then helps prop him up so he’s sitting vaguely upright. “I’m going to get you some more water.”

He leaves Jaspar sniffling, but when he gets back he’s sobbing into his hands. “Here, this will help.”

Jaspar takes longer to drink this one, and spills less of it. “Thank you, for not running from me. You’re a very good friend.” He clumsily attempted to pat Severin on the head. “And you’re so small! So small and cute! Adororable.”

Severin jumped back to avoid the blow, while Jaspar clearly didn’t mean him any harm he currently had no concept of his own strength. Jaspar flailed vaguely in his direction a couple more times before noticing that his friend had backed off, at which point his eyes widened in panic. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me!”

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m just looking at the stuff you stole.” There was a lot in the bundle, gilded incense burners and candlesticks, and assortment of rings and bracelets, and six pendants that hurt his eyes to look at. Definitely things he wanted nothing to do with.

“I don’t steal, I didn’t. Stealing is against the law ”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Besides, what sort of law is there up here?”

“I am the law! And the law is _hungry_.” Jaspar tilted his head and Severin was worried he might skip the asking this time and go straight to the eating. “We should go hunting Sev, it’s great they’ll run and we can chase and there will be _food_.”

“No, no no no no” Severin tried to dig his heels in but Jaspar was dragging him along by his wrist heedless of his struggling. Not wanting to risk injury over the issue he stopped fighting it, causing Jaspar to overbalance and fall flat on his face.

“Or maybe I’ll jusht stay here.”

“You can’t do that J, the day shift will be here soon and with the ruckus you’ve caused there are probably loads of monster hunters about. Come on, I’ll show you somewhere safe.”

Jaspar slammed a fist against the floor. “I dodn’t need somewhere safe! I am an enforcer, trained in combat by the adeptus arbites! I can take them.”

“I’m sure you can, but are you sure you don’t want to see the secret room?” There was a bit of debris to be moved before he could access the trapdoor, he hoped the rummaging around would lure Jaspar closer to investigate.

Jaspar yawned, now that he was lying down he realised he was actually quite tired. “Do I have to get up?”

“Sadly yes.” Severin descended down the ladder, actually quite glad that Jaspar wasn’t following immediately behind him. He was a safe distance back when the tumbled down into the space behind him. “Are you ok?”

“I love you Sev.” Jaspar reached a hand up and waved it vaguely in his friend’s direction. If he had been hurt by the fall, he certainly didn’t seem bothered by it.

“Back at you big guy. Now do me a favour and stay here.” He muttered under his breath “please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the point where Jaspar starts growing antlers.


End file.
